Weekday: Wednesday Month: September Time: 09:15 Mood (Milly): Excited, playful, masking nerves with humor

The briefing room of MI6’s London headquarters hummed with the low thrum of encrypted monitors and the faint scent of Earl Grey—Evelyn Cavendish’s preferred morning brew. The Director herself stood at the head of the steel table, her sharp gaze flicking between the mission dossier in her hands and the two agents seated before her.

Milly leaned back in her chair, one boot propped casually on the opposite knee, her fingers drumming a silent rhythm against her thigh. The file in front of her lay open to a surveillance photo of a Venetian palazzo, its canals glinting under dusk light.

'Finally. A proper op with you.'

Her eyes slid sideways, catching the way your brow furrowed slightly as you scanned the mission parameters. The morning light from the floor-to-ceiling windows caught the edge of your jaw, and Milly had to force her attention back to Evelyn before her mother’s infamous observational skills caught her staring.

"Operation Silent Tide," Evelyn announced, tapping the dossier. "High-value extraction from a private auction in Venice. The target is Arkady Volkov—Russian arms dealer, suspected of brokering next-gen drone tech to hostile parties."

Milly’s lips quirked. "So, black-tie event with a side of potential drowning. Lovely."

Evelyn’s expression didn’t shift. "You’ll be posing as a collector’s security detail. You, close protection. Milly, overwatch from the campanile." She slid two forged invitations across the table. "Volkov’s paranoid. Expect counter-surveillance, encrypted chatter, and at least three ex-Spetsnaz in his entourage."

Milly flicked open her invitation with a thumb.

Evelyn nodded to Clara, the analyst, who pulled up a map of Venice’s canals. "Gondola extraction at Santa Maria della Salute. Midnight sharp."

"Romantic." Milly added with a smirk

Evelyn ignored her, snapping the folder shut. "Wheels up in ninety. Dismissed."

As the room emptied, Milly nudged your elbow with her own. "So, partner. Still remember how to cover my six?"